


Boys don't cry.

by Greta_Garbage



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, El just wants to be his friend, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Will Byers, Homophobia, How Do I Tag, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, More tags to be added, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Underage Smoking, Will is a Mess, el is sad, jonathon is sweet, longer fic, will is angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greta_Garbage/pseuds/Greta_Garbage
Summary: Set after season 3 is sort of my version of how El's life would be with the Byers and her newfound anxiety. Defs gonna be a longer fic with a whole lot of angst. Will is kind of OOC but intentionally I think he wouldn't like El all that much despite saving him.Yet her newfound anxiety was a beast on par with any other she had killed. It was around every corner reminding her what had happened last time she thought she had defeated the ultimate evil. It came back. What would happen if it came back again? There was nothing she would be able to do. All she would be able to do is sit back and watch everyone she loved to be consumed by this thing. Her thoughts became increasingly dark, thinking of Mike, and Max, and Lucas, and Dustin so far away, so vulnerable.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Original Female Character(s), Will Byers/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 13





	1. Promise? Promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! Still kinda new to ao3 but I've been toying with this idea for a little while. Where Will severely dislikes El and Jonathon is good big bro and El is just afraid all the time. Enjoy the suffering <3 <3  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated more than anything.

El sat on the floor, head laying on her bed, the soft cool quilt accentuating the chill spring night. She stared out the window, gazing at the stars, she hoped Mike was doing the same. He probably wasn’t though he was probably hanging out with Max and Lucas and Dustin. Normally she would just check to see. Cover her eyes with a cloth and wander through that dark space to find him, but she couldn’t, not since she lost her powers. She had always somewhat hated them. They made her different when all she wanted to be was the same. Or so she thought but the moment she had lost them she felt so utterly useless. She tried to tell herself that this was a good thing that she could no longer be used as a weapon. Yet her newfound anxiety was a beast on par with any other she had killed. It was around every corner reminding her what had happened last time she thought she had defeated the ultimate evil. It came back. What would happen if it came back again? There was nothing she would be able to do. All she would be able to do is sit back and watch everyone she loved be consumed by this thing. Her thoughts became increasingly dark, thinking of Mike, and Max, and Lucas, and Dustin so far away, so vulnerable. 

She walked down the stairs resting at the bottom. She sat and peered through the wooden columns, looking out into the living room, where Will and Johnathon were watching some movie El had never heard of. Jonathan had tried to get her to watch them, Nancy had asked him to watch after her- most likely on request of Mike - since Hopper was… gone. The two had grown closer over the few months they had known each other. Johnathon's ultimate pleasure in life was showing off his good taste. El was good at listening and Will had apparently “Grown to cool for him” as he would so often tease. Which was only met with eye rolls from the younger. Will did not like her so much. She had no inclination as to why. She was perfectly nice to him, thoughtful even. She had tried to make him Eggos one morning but he had refused replying, rather rudely, that he preferred cereal. Though Eleven was certainly excited to learn more about music and photography she knew she was only a substitute. She could see it in Jonathan's eyes when Will would pass by his room on his way to go to the bathroom or grab a snack. Will spent most of his time in his room, Joyce was somewhat worried but resigned after El had quietly brought up the other places he had spent most of his time in previous years. Will’s room was musty, reeking of a teenage boy. Plates, bowls, and cups piled high on his desk. Art supplies everywhere. The window was almost nearly open. 

One day El had gone in there when the door had been left open, she had always been too curious for her own good. But however much Will despised her she loved him in equal measure. So no Will Byers to be found has a concerning sight that prompted some investigation. Pressing her hand to the old wooden door, she pushed it open, a loud creak responded to the action. Her nostrils were immediately hit with the sour scent of rotting food. Like all their rooms - except Joyces - they were on the second floor right beneath the roof giving each bedroom a slanted ceiling on one side. Will's room was on the backside of the house as opposed to Jonathon's and El’s, giving his room less sunlight, and an overall darker tone. He had a metal bed frame and comforter that at some point had been lime green but had since faded, El touched her hand to it, it felt like an old tee shirt. While Johnathon’s music taste was solidly rooted in all things punk and classic rock, Will’s music taste had gone -to the dismay of his brother- post-punk. Smith's lyrics became his bible and XTC his chapel. 

Posters lined his walls, not only band posters or movies like Johnathon but also artwork. Andy Warhol was inescapable in the 11 x 13 room. Paint crusted towels laid out on his desk which itself was cluttered with “art junk” As the inhabitant of this room lovingly referred to it as. Nothing drew her in though like the open window. She hadn’t noticed it but whilst looking through some of his sketches had felt a sudden chill. She walked over and noticed the window open but the curtains closed. She opened them to discover a dice tray covered with ash and cigarette butts. Will didn’t smoke. Johnathon barely even smoked. Eleven did not know their father but she knew he smoked hence Jonathan's scarcity. 

She picked one up to smell it. She loved that smell. Not the same way Will did. It smelled like Hopper, it smelled like his truck and hugging him and the couch in the old cabin. It smelled like cozy summer nights out on the porch. She stuffed a few into her pockets. Her jeans were actually Joyces without Max shopping and fashion hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind but Joyce's old clothes were better than Hoppers, even Nancy had given her a couple of things, El was, after all, used to wearing Nancy’s clothes. 

She shut the window, a loud thunk landing as it fell with the energy of a guillotine. The pseudo ashtray falling at the same moment as Will entered. His pajama bottoms and tee shirt clinging loosely to his thin frame. He was holding a cup of soda. “What are you doing in my room?” He questioned El, already annoyed. “I just- wanted to see.” She said innocently enough. He aggressively set the drink down on his desk. Wanting to avoid eye contact he organized papers and drawings. “So you aren’t snooping?” He looked over at her and she shook her head. “I’m not mom…” His face became rigid and stern. “Joyce, you call her Joyce.” He stared at her angrily,  _ how dare she call my mom, mom. _ He noticed where she was standing. 

She tensed as he approached. Shoving past her, with a terrible realization, but not the one El thought he was having. Will, the sweetheart of the group, had hardened slightly over the years. The new school had been a good enough chance to reinvent himself. However, the thing no one tells you about growing up is as you do, in turn growing out of every phase, hobby, and whim is that all those versions of you still exist. That just because your fascination with something ended doesn’t mean it never happened. Like seeing last year's crush downtown will still elicit the memories and feelings. So at this moment when somberly Will slunk over to his bed and sat down on it, refusing for a few moments to break eye contact with Els converse, he was Will from before. This was Will “Dork” Byers, not Will “Zombie” Byers. Sheepishly he peered up from his hands, which his head had been resting on, to look at Eleven. “Don’t tell, ok?” Will asked. “Ok.” She said softly. “Joyce-mom, can’t know. Ever.” He stood up, all too close to her. She shook her head. Jonathan walked out of his room, noticing El in Will’s room he went to inquire. “Everything good? Or did I miss the invation to cage match?” Will backed off from El. “No, you’re good.” He made an odd movement with his foot and there was a sound of paper sliding across the floor. “El? You alright?” El maneuvered around Will’s desk chair. “Yeah I’m okay.” 

“You two are total weirdos.” he laughed.

“Pretty sure that’s been made clear already.” Will retorted. Picking up a comic book from his nightstand, flipping through the pages. 

Jonathan just rolled his eyes and walked away. Right as El went to leave, Will lept off his bed and gripped her wrist, tightly. “El,” His tone didn’t match his body. His tone was worried and pleading but his body was aggressive and panicky. “Not him either.” She was staring at his grasp on her. He noticed and released. She resumed exiting but came back, placing a firm hand on Will’s shoulder. “Will, I’m not going to tell anyone.” He looked up. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Can we talk tonight?” He asked in a whisper. 

“El! Do you have my Ramones tape?” Jonathan called from the foot of the stairs. She leaned out of Wills's room. “Yes!” 

“Well- Can you get it?” 

“Yeah, one second.” She kept her hand on Will and pulled him for a fast hug, leaving him with a hurried, “Tonight?” He gave a thumbs up and she bounded off to her room. Will closed and locked his door.


	2. The Things Will Byers Doesn't See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She almost closed the door but didn’t. El did that over and over again. Like a ritual. He walked back up and looked at her. She tried to stop crying. Will looked at Eleven or “Jane” up and down then scoffed. “Weirdo.” He closed and locked his door. For a moment his hand hovered over the handle as he contemplated going back out and apologizing but then he remembered that it was her and decided to just smoke and pass out for the night. El had done enough for him to not like her and yet for some reason he had to go out of his way to do so. She had stolen all his friends. Had become the main attention of the family, and he just knew that she thought she was better than him. She waltzed into his life, and ruined everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short but I've already got two other chapters that just have to be edited. Also, it's 5 am right now so please excuse any spelling errors.
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and convince me that I'm not a bad writer.
> 
> <3 <3 <3

El left to her room, she didn’t leave the house very much, she could barely sleep in her own room. Most nights she would sleep in Jonathan's room or Joyces or on the couch in the living room, for a while she slept in the shed in a pillow fort, Will had no clue what that was all about. Will tried to calm himself down.  _ Had she really seen? She must have.  _ Will decided. He sat down on his bed, hands anxiously brushing through his hair which he had groomed to look just like Morrissey. The clock read 3:18 pm. He didn’t know what constituted “tonight” but he figured it would be after everyone went to sleep. He laid back and tried to occupy his mind with something else, imagining monsters he could draw. Downstairs the phone rang, and he counted out loud “3...2...1-” He said, lifting fingers. “Oh my god!” Joyce called out. “Knew it,” He grumbled, his hand falling to the faded green comforter. His mom was startled by the most random things, he didn’t know what that was about either. He had missed so much. Honestly, it was a miracle that he had remained somewhat normal for that long. The older he got though the less he felt like he could explain what he felt. He had friends at his new school. Weird, reject, art, punks, but friends nonetheless. They encouraged his pain, but they still didn’t get it. They knew he was from “Hellish Hawkins” But were not aware of the part he played in its hellification. He felt so rotten, he was sure some people could see it, how could they not? He wouldn’t do laundry for months, dishes piled in his room like bodies on a fire. He was like an orange from the outside, perfectly sweet looking, but if you were to pick it up and give it a good squeeze you would feel how soft it was. “Will!” His mom called up the stairs, the main form of communication between the two as of late. “Phone!” He groaned and dragged himself downstairs and took the phone from her hands, throwing up a half-hearted smile. “Yo! Dude there you are! Me and Parker are coming to get you.” Devon was a lot and was currently yelling into the phone. “Parker and I.” Will corrected. “What?”

Will sighed, “You said me and Parker, it’s Parker and I.”

“Dude why are you fixing my grammar.”

“Because you were wrong and you’re failing English.”

“That is a nonissue, did you understand what I meant?”

“That is beside the point-”

“Well did you?”

Will refused to dignify his logic with a verbal response, instead, he just breathed a heavy sigh. “Ha! I won!” Devon declared. “You did not win, I just refuse to humor your idiocy.”

“Whatever man, we’ll be there in ten, Parker says he has something to show us.”

“Cryptic..”

“I know right he's being creepy as hell about it too, just calling it, well, it.”

That terrible sick feeling returned to Will, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He knew he had become visibly tense when his mom took a break from sorting through mail to look over at him. “Oh, are you sure you don’t have any clue what it is?”

“No, nothing. Guess it’ll be a surprise.”

“Yeah, a surprise., totally” Will’s voice cracked, he fidgeted with his fingertips counting them with his thumb over and over. He heard a car honk over the phone. “Okay man gotta jet Parker’s here.” Will gulped. “Nice, see you in ten.” He stuffed his hand in his pajama pants pocket. “Yeah see you in ten,” Devon replied and hung up the phone with a resounding click. Will put the receiver on the hook and leaned against the adjacent wall. The phone was next to the doorway that connected the kitchen and the living room and right next to the front door. Their front door had windows surrounding it. He looked through them and out into the woods. He stared harshly. He thought he saw something move and his stomach sank. He became queasy and his breath became rapid.  _ Great,  _ he thought,  _ another fucking panic attack. _ He had them all the time. He held a hand over his mouth as the puke came dripping through his fingers. He ran to the kitchen sink and threw up onto a plate covered in the remains of what must have been lasagna. Joyce walked up behind him and rubbed his back. Or she tried to but was alarmed. Will spun around, eyes wide. “Hey, hey, honey, Will it’s me, sweety calm down, it’s okay.” She reached a hand out to grab his shoulder, he swatted it away and turned the water on to wash his hands. “I know it’s okay.” Joyce sunk back, leaning on one of the countertops. She opened a cabinet filled with mismatched glasses. “Here you want a cup of water?” “No!” He squeaked out. “Sor-ry” She said. He dipped his head down into the running water and filled his mouth only to spit it out. He turned around and crossed his arms. “Sorry mom, it’s just-” He rolled his eyes up trying to search for the right thing to say. “It’s just been a year. I don’t need you to fawn over me anymore, well not like that at least, I’m not that stupid fucking zombie boy anymore-” “Hey language!” “Sorry, sorry. I tried talking about it and that only made it worse, okay? So please just let me- let me come to you?” She sighed in that way moms sigh. A you’re-gonna-be-the-death-of-me sigh. “Yeah okay…” “Thank you” 

He had made it half-way up the stairs when his mom called after him, her words coming out sporadically. “Are you sure you wanna go out tonight? We could stay in, watch a movie, play DnD.” He stopped, physically pained by the mention of the game. He had really loved it but now it had become tainted with failed attempts at friendship, monsters, suffering, bleeding, choking, coughing, pain, terrible terrible pain, and- “Mom I’ll be fine I always am, besides you have a shift.” His mom had become a receptionist for a construction company which meant long hot days in a small tin trailer picking up a phone every half hour to tell some brain-dead moron that “No the business is not operational yet.” He heard her grumble something along the lines of. “You aren’t always.” He just went upstairs to get ready. 

He pulled out a pair of ripped acid wash jeans, a sex pistols teeshirt, and a pair of white converse. He threw on a dark green windbreaker and examined himself in the mirror. He couldn’t really tell what he looked like, an unfortunate side effect of the “trauma.” Such a short word for such a big feeling. It’s just one word, six letters, years of torture, and confusion. He grabbed his old red Coleman backpack and lifted up the grocery acting as a miniature trash bag in his garbage can. Below it sat a couple of packs of cigarettes. He shoved one of the boxes into the backpack, along with a small flannel blanket, his wallet, house key, and his sketchbook. He had a pretty awful memory so when he got an idea for a drawing he had to make it immediately, so his sketchbook was basically a vital organ. Will walked over to his window slinging his bag onto his shoulder. He peered out and saw El trying to balance on a fallen log, from a storm that had happened about a week ago. El had been completely panicked but she didn’t say anything. Will knew she had been, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she couldn’t sit still, in the way she was looking at the tv but not watching it. But she had let everyone take care of him when he had reacted negatively to the flashes of lighting and the nasty howling wind. 

She had simply said that she was going to bed, but at around two a.m when Will finally slunk off the couch and to his room he had heard her crying. He stared for a minute. She had suddenly stood up and he crept slightly down the stairs. Enough to see her room but not enough for her to see him. She almost closed the door but didn’t. El did that over and over again. Like a ritual. He walked back up and looked at her. She tried to stop crying. Will looked at Eleven or “Jane” up and down then scoffed. “Weirdo.” He closed and locked his door. For a moment his hand hovered over the handle as he contemplated going back out and apologizing but then he remembered that it was  _ her _ and decided to just smoke and pass out for the night. El had done enough for him to not like her and yet for some reason he had to go out of his way to do so. She had stolen all his friends. Had become the main attention of the family, and he just  _ knew _ that she thought she was better than him. She waltzed into his life, and ruined everything. From what Mike had told him, it was her fault that that infernal portal had opened and caused all of those terrible things. Will knew awful things had happened to her but she refused to talk about any of them or maybe she lacked the vocabulary for it. So as he peered at her from the window he snarled. Will picked up the thing he thought she had seen and tucked it under his mattress. He shouldn't be so careless with that stuff but he had just been so tired last time he looked at it that it had fallen right out of his hands and he had no clue that the girl would be snooping in his room. 

Will was now riding in Parker's car, in the front seat. Devon had been banned from the front seat since the beginning of summer. He had gotten completely blasted and thrown up an entire big gulp from the 7/11. Parker had said if he ever did that again he would punch him in the stomach until he threw up a lung. Will kind of believed him. Parker had anger issues and they had met after Parker had just gotten chewed out by his dad and was looking for someone to beat the crap out of. Frank Davis had called him a queer and Parker punched his lights out because his brother, who was in college, was a quee- was gay. Parker thought it was gross and didn’t love that his brother was that way, but he tried his best to respect it and respect from Parker came in the form of a swift kick in the gut. Since then Parker and he hung out all the time and so Will met Devon. Parkers best friend since diapers who had moved away for two years and come back a total moron. Currently, Devon was sitting in the middle seat yammering on about one thing or another. Devon meant better than he said. He kind of just let things slip out and he made very bad decisions at a constant, he refused to tell anyone why, unlike Will who had told them- absolutely nothing. Parker had always told Will it was just problems at home but Parker had those and wasn’t like that. Then again Will’s entire life was composed of problems at home and he wasn’t like either of them. Parker liked hard rock and Devon liked anything with a good beat. Will was grumbling about the shitty AC/DC song playing on the radio. “If you don’t like it, change it, moron,” Parker said turning his shitty car off of Will’s street. “Fine then I will.” Will reached into the glove box which was full of tapes, mostly his. He pulled out one he knew they all liked. It was called  _ One For The Road - A Live Album By The Kinks.  _ Parker liked a significant amount of Will’s music, none of the “moody shit” though. The first song came on and the three sixteen-year-olds immediately started dancing, bopping, and singing along. Three songs in and Parkers Geo was sputtering, he pulled into a gas station and leaned against the car as the gas tank filled. Devon leaned in, his arms raised up on the front seats. “So man…” He was about to ask for something.

“What’s up dev?”

“How’s- uh.”

“How’s uh? Oh, he’s great, really terrific we’re getting lunch next Saturday.”

“Fuck off, how’s your sister doing?”

Will turned away from him not before shooting a harsh stare. He sunk into his seat and glared out the window. “I don’t have a sister.” As far as El is concerned they thought that she was his stepsister whose dad died and that had made her get really quiet. So what if Will existed on a pile of lies? It was more comfortable than the laundry you’re supposed to be folding. “Fi-ne, How’s Elanor doing?” Another lie. “She’s fine man, why?”

“She’s cute is all.” An odd feeling of anger shot through Will. He spun around.

“No dude just no.”

“What?! Why not? I’m a good guy,”

“Yeah exactly, stay away from her. She’s so weird.”

“I like weird.”

“No you like pseudo punk chicks with dark hair, so you can get off to your Joan Jett fantasy.”

“Harsh words, and totally untrue.”

“Not untrue and she isn’t that kind of weird. She’s like future serial killer, weird okay? Just stay away from her.”

Parker reentered the car. “What are you guys bickering about?”

“I’m trying to pork his sister.”

Parker scrunched his face in disgust. Will flipped him off then looked over at Parker. 

“She’s not my sister and if you go anywhere near her I’ll disown you.”

“Whatever it’s not my fault you don’t get any.” 

As they were about to pull out of the gas station Parker turned around and flicked Devon. “Ouch! Dickhead.” Devon rubbed his forehead. “Devon you don’t get any either, besides I thought you were into Jessie.” Devon disregarding his seat belt laid down, spreading out over the backseat. “Nah she died her hair, and now she looks like Jamie Lee Curtis.”

“Jamie Lee Curtis is hot, what’s the issue?” Parker asked, Will was still moping and was now searching through the glove box for music Devon would hate. “Yeah, but the only movie of her’s I’ve seen is Halloween.” He sat up, propping his elbow on Will’s seat and resting his head in his hand. “Okay and?” Parker asked as Will popped in a mixtape labeled:  _ Music for when you’re mad at Devon.  _ “Every time I look at her I think of Michael Myers and I’m sorry but serial killers just aren’t attractive to me.” 

Will put his sunglasses on as the sunset managed to get under their visors. “Hey, dude don’t knock it until you try it,” Will said nonchalantly. “Oh yeah, you been with an ax murderer?” Parker who was unhealthily obsessed with horror movies chimed in with. “Michael Myers is not an ax murderer also technically not a serial killer.” Devon furrowed his brows questioning the legitimacy of this line of dialogue. “Yeah man, you didn’t hear about me and Bundy? Say what you will about the guy but bad lover should be excluded from that list of insults.” Devon simply shoved him laughing it off. Will had turned his vague and alarming sexuality into a joke. He was straight, and every part of him that was afraid he wasn’t, turned it into humor. “Wait, explain how  _ Michael Myers  _ is not a serial killer.” Will had one leg on the seat and was hugging it as he stared at the tallest of the three. “Ok so like, besides the night when he kills his sister it’s just one night of terror. So it’s more like mass murder also there is no common person he kills. It’s not  _ serial _ like an Archie Comic or whatever it’s all one issue.” Devon slummed back down into his seat. “You are a fucking nerd.” 

“I’ll kick your teeth in if you say that again.”

“There he is!” Devon exclaimed.

“What the hell are we listening to- did you put on that stupid mix again?”

“Do you mean the 100% awesome mix?” Will turned back to look at Devon as Jesus and Mary Chain played in the background. Devon just crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at Will. “Love you too, buddy” Will readjusted, kicking his backpack around at his feet.

“What are you trying to show us anyways? We’re literally just on the way to the spot.”

The spot as they called it was an abandoned strip mall, with a cracked parking lot and rows of empty stores. It was about half a mile away from the train tracks and the baseball field which was the best place in town to both buy and smoke weed. However, it was Thursday which meant Devon had family dinner and could not go home reeking of weed. “You’ll like it, man, it’s nothing weird just chill,” Parker said as they made the final turn before the spot. To be honest, hearing that it was nothing weird did calm Will down, it couldn’t be related to…the other place. If it wasn’t weird it wasn’t from there. Fingers crossed it wasn’t another bald-headed girl with mind powers. Will had actually never known El’s shaved head but had been told the whole story about a month after she went missing the first time or technically the second time. 

  
The group sat on the hood of the car, Devon and Will passing a cigarette back and forth. “Dude, what’s up? Where’s this thing you’re showing us.” Devon asked, handing the cigarette over to Will. Parker just shrugged. “I’m gonna go take a leak,” Will announced after a minute of silence. “Bully for you,” Parker said, obviously annoyed, taking the cigarette from Devon's hand forcefully. Will and Devon shared a concerned look, Parker getting annoyed was dangerous. Especially after what happened last time. Will walked off around a corner. He shoved his hand in his pockets and kicked a rock as he made his way through the rows of empty stores. Once the car was completely out of sight and he was on the other side of the strip mall he relieved himself on the side of the tan concrete. He zipped his fly and wiped his hands on his pants. He didn’t want to go back yet. So he continued to wander around. This strip mall was a half square, and in the front, there was an odd clock tower with overgrown shrubbery. From the clock tower, there was a path that was in the center of the half square, it was a micro park. It was a patch of dirt encased in concrete with two benches, a birdbath, a trash can-that they had no clue who had been emptying it- and a large tree spilling over the side. It was odd but hey it was built in the ’70s what do you expect? He found his way towards the micro park just to catch his breath and maybe empty out the birdbath which they, along with the local homeless population, used as an ashtray. When teenagers smoke anything that can hold cigarette butts, does. As he was scooping handfuls of used cigarettes into the trash can, he heard a strange rustling sound. His body immediately became tense. He called out “Hello?” It was almost a whisper because he was afraid if he did it loud enough, something would answer. But  _ hey, fuck it  _ he thought,  _ I’m Will Byers at this point I’d be grateful if it was a pedo and not a demonic monster hell-bent on my destruction. _ “Hello?!” He yelled. The sound happened again. He followed it. Will stared yards ahead, he almost wished El was here, for however much he hates- dislikes her, he couldn’t deny that he felt safe around her. He didn’t realize that he had been walking straight into a building until his face made contact and the blood poured from his nose. He slumped down into a crouching position. He had walked into a glass window front, which was blocked by the lack of light inside. Will peered up and he was sure this time that something scurried quickly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will do be angsty tho... Also not me changing almost all of the tags lol.

**Author's Note:**

> well... guess we'll see what happens when they talk. Also, the next chapter finna be waayyyy longer just wanted to get this started already


End file.
